


Should Have

by Foxtrot909



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, F/M, Five Years Later, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxtrot909/pseuds/Foxtrot909
Summary: Five years laterArya thinks that she should have asked him a question before she left.Gendry thinks that she never should have had to ask.





	1. Chapter 1

Edric Storm went into hiding when his father was killed. He had been alone at Storm’s End for over a year while Renly was in King’s Landing serving on the high council. When Renly arrived at Storm’s End bringing news that Robert was dead and announcing his intention to fight for the throne, as Cersei Lannister’s children did not belong to the late king, but rather to her twin brother, Edric decided to flee. He gathered his few valuable belongings and headed south. He ended up in Sunspear, and made it through by writing letters for the old maester that served House Martell, whose hands were immobile with arthritis. He never revealed his true identity, though he suspected that a few people had put it together. He was content to spend his life in the safety and anonymity that Dorne provided. 

However when the new prince of Dorne returned from the council to name the new king, he brought news that another of Robert’s bastards had been legitimized and named Lord of Storm’s End. Edric felt a surge of jealousy, as he always figured if a bastard of Robert were to be legitimized, it should be him, as he was at least acknowledged by the late king. Perhaps he had done too well at hiding himself. After a few moon turns, he decided to at least reach out to this other bastard, a man named Gendry who had grown up in King’s Landing, to make out his character. He wrote, explaining who he was and offering council if it was needed, as he knew Storm’s End well. 

Gendry responded within a fortnight, his writing clumsy, but the words were all spelled right. He explained that he had never expected this and had no idea what he was doing. He said he had good council in the form of Davos Seaworth, but he would, of course, welcome more. He invited Edric to come to Storm’s End and help him rebuild, telling him he would be safe and given every comfort. Edric thought on it for a while, finally confiding in the old Maester. He advised Edric that this new Lord Baratheon was likely his only remaining family, and if he wished for Edric’s council, then it was his duty to his family to provide council. He also told Edric that he had heard the new lord was a good man, a war hero, and was working hard to rebuild Storm’s End for the people. By all accounts, he was a worthy lord.

Edric said his goodbyes, though he had formed few attachments in Dorne, and he rode for Storm’s End. He arrived at his childhood home about a year after King Bran had been named. There were a few servants who recognized him, and welcomed him back, expressing relief that he had survived the wars. They directed him to the forge when he asked after Lord Baratheon. Edric walked in expecting to find his half brother speaking with the smiths, but he looked around for a while and found only smiths. Eventually he spotted one that could have been his twin, though he was a bit taller than Edric, and much stronger.  


“Lord Baratheon?”

The man looked up, blue eyes meeting blue eyes, and he shook his head. 

“Don’t call me that. Gendry is fine,” he set down what looked like a lock that he had been working on and wiped a hand on his trousers. “You must be Edric. You are most welcome here,” he said, shaking his hand, and giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When you wrote that you were coming, I asked a few servants who remembered you where they thought you might like to stay, and I had your old chambers prepared for you. If you would prefer something else that is fine. I’m sure you would like to rest after your ride, I will have a bath prepared for you, and see you for dinner.” He turned back to his work, and Edric understood himself to be dismissed.

Gendry was not what Edric had been expecting. He thought he would be eager and pompous, being elevated to Lord after being an unnamed bastard in the slums of King’s Landing. Instead he was humble, and very serious. At dinner that night, he did not say much as Davos Seaworth talked about the things that still needed doing to return Storm’s End to prosperity. He nodded and gave direction or approval where necessary, looking to Davos for confirmation that he was doing the right thing often, and excusing himself quickly. 

Over the following year, Edric observed his half brother rule Storm’s End with a just hand, relying on him and Davos for advice on things he knew little about. He remained humble and reserved, and above all, Edric noticed, sad. Edric knew that Gendry had fought through the Long Night and wondered if that was what troubled him, but Davos had also been there, and he wasn’t nearly as damaged. He once asked Davos why Gendry was so sad, and Davos simply said that he had a broken heart, but declined to say more. 

A year into his stay, word came from the North that Queen Sansa would be marrying, along with an invitation for Gendry. Gendry declined the invitation, stating that he needed to stay in Storm’s End, but sending congratulations and an appropriate gift. He inquired if her siblings would be able to attend. A while after the wedding, word came that King Bran had not attended, but he gave special dispensation for her brother Jon to come down from beyond the wall for the celebration. There had been no word from Arya since she had set sail almost two years before. Gendry did not leave the forge for days after that letter came, and Edric could not understand why.

During this time, many storm lords began arriving for visits with their lord, their eligible daughters in tow. Gendry welcomed them all, and made sure they were comfortable during their stay, but he never said more than a passing word to their daughters. Davos kept trying to bring up the subject of him carrying on the Baratheon name, but Gendry would never even discuss it.

A year after Queen Sansa married, Gendry and Edric sat on a balcony overlooking the sea, drinking wine late into the night. After a few hours, and more than a few goblets, Edric finally worked up the courage to ask a question that had plagued him for almost two years.

“Who broke your heart?”

Gendry said nothing, but looked cautiously at his brother.

“Davos mentioned it once. You are always moping around, I had to ask. But I have been here two years and you’ve never mentioned her,” Edric paused. “Or him?”

Gendry shook his head slightly, but he was smiling. “Actually, brother, I bring her up quite often. Never by name, I suppose. I ask Queen Sansa and King Bran for word of their siblings, and I ask our sailors and scouts for word of any ships with a dire wolf bow. Arya Stark is never far from my mind.” 

“Arya Stark? The Arya Stark? The woman who slayed the Night King?”

Gendry nodded and sipped his wine while he contemplated his answer. “We’ve known each other since we were children, fleeing King’s Landing. She was… Is… the love of my life. And like the idiot I am, I drunkenly asked her to be my lady after the dragon queen named me. She’s no lady, and I’ve always known that.”

“That is why you do not like being called ‘Lord’?”

Gendry nodded, refilling his cup. “I never wanted this, you know. But for a moment, I thought it meant I would be worthy of her, and then it was too late. Before I knew it, she was setting sail for who knows where, and I was here, without her, and more miserable than I’ve ever been in my life,” Gendry took a large gulp of wine as tears began to roll down his cheeks. “I should have gone with her.” He finished his wine, and left Edric sitting there, slightly dazed, contemplating his brother long into the night.

Gendry did not speak to him for almost a full moon turn after that night. He was not being antagonistic by any means, he mostly just seemed to be avoiding Edric. He figured Gendry was embarrassed that he had cried in front of him. He knew by now that his brother was prone to fits of moodiness, and when Gendry spent a lot of that time in the forges, Edric gave him his space. When Gendry finally broke his silence, he called Edric into his chambers and presented him with papers to legitimize him, signed by King Bran, and naming him the heir to Storm’s End.

“I do not want to force this on you. I was never given a choice and it ruined my life. But you’re good at this, it makes sense for you, and if you want it, it is yours. I do not wish to marry but we know the Baratheon line must be carried on. I want you to be the one to do that,” Gendry explained, looking serious, and as always, sad.

Edric was shocked, and a little overwhelmed, but very pleased. He thanked Gendry profusely, but the only response he got was a sad smile that he had grown so used to.

“Maybe now everyone will stop trying to make me marry a lady. That is up to you now,” Gendry said. “I hope you do not find it to be as much of a burden as I did.”  
*************  
Arya set sail on a fine day. The sky was clear and the wind was behind them, and she had her crew set a course due west. The sailed for three moons, through rain and wind and terrible storms. It began to grow cold again towards the end, and her second mate suggested they head south. Arya insisted they go for another day before they turned. At daybreak the next morning, a crew member spotted land. They eagerly approached, but found only a frozen, barren tundra, as far as the eye could see. 

They turned South and after another fortnight, they came to the end of the barren land, though it was warmer. Another day South was more land, much more fertile and full of luscious vegetation. They hugged the coast, working west but venturing onto land for exploring purposes, as well as hunting expeditions. Arya thoroughly documented the coastal terrain, making detailed maps and taking note of edible vegetation and life. But for the better part of a year, they slowly sailed west along the coast and saw no sign of human life, no port, no civilization. They eventually reached the end of the continent, where it veered sharply South again, and decided to sail on. However, their supplies were severely depleted. They made port in a sheltered cove, and spent another year gathering food, fermenting a wine made from native fruits, drying meat, and preparing the ship for another long voyage.

When they finally set sail again, the whole crew was ready to get away from the eery land that was too quiet for all of them. They spent five moons at sea this time, before finally spotting land. As they approached, none of them felt particularly happy as they saw another barren stretch of land, but when they got close enough, they noticed an inlet, which one crew member recognized as the Saffron Straight. He was proven right as they sailed between Ulos and the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. They eagerly made port when they came upon Asshai. It was a little creepy for some, but others had been there before and were used to the odd behavior of the locals. Most of them were just grateful to see human life. 

Arya had seen what was west of Westeros. She was intrigued but something had been missing the whole time, and now she felt the call of home. She wasn’t close to any of her crew, and that was fine. They respected her, but she missed her family. So after a few days, she decided they should head for Westeros, though there could be no harm in taking their time. They made port several times, in Quarth, Astapor, and Mereen. In Mereen they were welcomed by the leader of the Second Sons, a man named Daario. He was a good spirited man, though he asked many questions about the Dragon Queen. Arya recognized the love he had for her as the same her brother felt. She took no pleasure in sharing how the queen had met her fate, and Daario took no pleasure in hearing it. Though he invited them to stay as long as they wished, they set sail a few days later. Arya couldn’t stand the guilt she felt when she looked at this man, devastated with the loss of his queen and his love.

So they moved on, with many gifts from the Mereenese and the Second Sons. Even this far east, word had spread of the service Arya Stark had done for all mankind, and the people were eager to show their gratitude, though Arya shied away from the attention. They sailed the long way around the Doom of Valyria, not wanting to risk a confrontation with the stone men, and wanting to avoid the hunting ground of the last dragon, who was still spotted around the Bay of Dragons from time to time. They made port in Volantis, and Arya spent some time asking around, until she finally found the family of the woman who had been Robb’s wife, Talisa Maegyr. Her father had passed away before she left Volantis, and her brother was married with children of his own. But her mother was still clearly haunted by what had happened to her daughter. The details of the Red Wedding were muddled by the time they reached Volantis, and Arya cleared up what she could. She told the woman that she had personally seen to the eradication of the family that murdered her daughter. The woman smiled as Arya walked away, understanding how her daughter could have fallen in love with a brother of this fierce woman, and at peace for the first time in years. 

They moved on again, spending some time in Tyrosh and Pentos before making their way north to Braavos. Arya visited the house of Black and White, but did not go inside. Jaquen opened the black door. He did not say anything, but he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a small smile. She wanted to make sure she was not going to worry about being hunted by the Faceless Men for turning her back on them, and she had her assurance. They spent two moons in there, enjoying the food and entertainment Braavos had to offer. One night, in a tavern, Arya had a few mugs of ale and ended up chatting with a strong dark haired man. She discovered that he was a smith, and he was charming and flattering, and clearly impressed by her. He asked her to let him take her to bed, but his brown eyes didn’t light up when he looked at her, not the way Gendry’s blue eyes had. He was close, tall and strong and kind, but he wasn’t who she wanted. She wanted Gendry. She wanted her family. The next morning, four years to the day since they had set sail from the Stoney Shore, Arya and her crew sailed north out of Braavos, heading for White Harbor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa runs the North, falls in love, carries on the Stark name, and lies a little bit. She did, after all, learn from the best liars in Westeros.

Sansa took her role as Queen in the North more seriously than anyone could have expected. They day she was crowned, she gathered the remaining builders of Winterfell before the feast. They had been doing good work, and Winterfell itself was looking better every day. Now it was time to look to the rest of the North, to see what other villages and holdfasts would need to be rebuilt after the wars. She assigned each builder a list of locations to go and scout out what the needs of each place were so they could prioritize the more important tasks. She asked her head builder, a commoner named Ned, to remain behind to continue the work at Winterfell, and to help coordinate as reports came back. 

He was a kind man, strong and distinctly Northern, with lots of dark hair and pale skin, a few years her senior. His wife had perished during the Long Night, fighting by his side, but their young son kept him from falling into despair. They boy would often be seen running around the castle while his father worked, finding fun in the most unusual places. Sansa found him to be a sweet boy, wild and adventurous. Something about him reminded her of Arya, who Sansa missed dearly, much to her surprise. Watching his father with him made her heart warm. For more than a year, Sansa grew close to them, finding joy as she watched life grow, and believing that maybe not all men were monsters when she would look at his father.

One evening at dinner, Sansa had a few too many cups of wine, and stumbled when she attempted to rise from her chair. Ned was by her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and helping her find her footing before removing his hands quickly. It was widely known that the Queen did not like to be touched, but she found she did not mind his strong hands on her. 

“It seems I am a little deep in my cups. Would you help me back to my chambers, Ned?”

“Of course, your grace.” He offered her his arm, and she took it gladly. When they reached the doors of her chambers, she released his arm and looked at him, smiling in thanks. He was smiling as well, and his eyes were soft in the dim light of the hall. Sansa did not think as she leaned forward and pressed her warm lips to his chapped ones. It was only when his strong hands gently gripped her arms, pushing her away, that she realized what she had done. “As nice as that was, your grace, I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets come morning,” he said quietly, before placing a quick kiss to her cheek and leaving her there in front of her door. 

The next morning, she was a little embarrassed and remained in her chambers until after midday. She finally emerged to find Ned working diligently as always, and as she watched him, she began to consider that she would not find a man more suited to her. He was lowborn, but she was a queen. She could do as she pleased. The more she thought on it, the more she decided that it was a good idea. Three days after she had kissed him, she called him to her council chambers.

“Ned, I would like to start by apologizing for my actions the other night. I hope I did not make you uncomfortable?”

“No, your grace. There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Please call me Sansa.”

“Sansa,” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers.

She was quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to begin. “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Have you heard this expression?”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunately, they way things stand now, when my siblings and I perish, there will be no more Starks anywhere. Bran cannot father children, Arya has said she will never return, and I… Well as Queen, I am expected to marry a high lord, and no high lord will ever be humble enough to give his sons the name of his wife. But I feel it is of vital importance that I carry on the Stark name. And I also feel that it is important that I marry for love, I think I deserve that after the first two marriages I was forced into. So I will not marry a high lord. I must find a humble man, a man who is kind and good, a man that I love.”

Ned was quiet. He had a feeling he knew where she was going, but he didn’t want to assume, as it was beyond his wildest dreams. “Forgive me, Sansa, but I'm not sure I understand.”

“I love you Ned. I have discovered this only in the last couple days, but I think it has been true for quite some time. I am your queen but I want you to agree to this because it is what you want, not because you feel obligated. Obligations do not make happy marriages. I understand that you still grieve for you late wife, and if you are not ready, that is fine. But when you are ready, I ask you to think about whether you would like to be my husband. You will not be king, and our children will have the name Stark. I will be a mother to your son, and he will be as well provided for as the rest of our children. I will keep his mother’s memory alive. I think that we could be happy together Ned. Now I would like to know what you think.”

He took two large strides to close the distance between them, cupping her face gently in his hands, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “I love you Sansa, and I would be overjoyed to be your husband. I don’t care what name our children have. I only want to make you happy.”

They married on a beautiful day in late winter, saying the old words next to the heart tree in the Godswood. Jon was there to give her away, smiling, as the sun shone weakly through the trees. Sansa’s third wedding day was a happy one.

About two years later, it was almost warm, a fine spring day, and Sansa sat writing letters next to the cracked window in her chambers, her swollen belly acting as a sort of desk, when her husband burst in, filthy from his work and his eyes wild with excitement. There was word from White Harbor that a ship with a dire wolf bow had docked, and Arya was riding for Winterfell. Sansa ordered her old chambers to be freshened up, and lemon cakes to be made, though she admittedly ordered lemon cakes to be made often these days. 

Arya arrived the next afternoon, and she came straight to Sansa’s chambers. The sisters embraced and cried, glad to be reunited again. Arya placed her hands on Sansa’s belly and seemed to marvel at the idea of a baby, as though she had never heard of such a thing. She showed her the maps and gave her a beautiful silken gown from Volantis, telling her all of her adventures, of Talisa’s mother, and all the delicious food she had eaten. Sansa went into labor within a fortnight, and Arya was by her side for a day and a night until finally there was a screaming little girl, wrapped in a blanket in her arms. Sansa took her daughter, her sister on one side and her husband on the other, and said quietly, “Hello, Catelyn. I’m your mother,” as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Arya found over the following weeks that she very much liked Sansa’s adopted son, Robb. He was an adventurous little kid, and he often joined Arya in the training yard, where she would teach him to use a sword. She even liked Sansa’s husband. He was a good, honest man and he was good to Sansa. They were happy, and that seemed to be enough for Arya. Sansa did sometimes notice the way Arya would look at them, as if longing for the love they shared. Sansa had put together in King’s Landing, years before, that the Baratheon bastard and her little sister were in love with each other, but Arya was always fiercely independent. She did not seem to want to be with him, despite their affection, which they did not hide as well as they seemed to think. She had corresponded with Gendry a little over the years, but had corresponded with his brother often since he was named Gendry’s heir. Sansa could not resist writing to him to ask about Gendry’s reasons for refusing to marry. Edric confirmed her suspicions that Gendry was determined to wait for Arya, even if she never returned. 

One night, a month after baby Cat had been born, Arya and Sansa sat up late by the fire, as Arya shared her plans to travel beyond the wall to see Jon when summer came.

“Do you plan on visiting Lord Gendry?”

Arya did not say anything for a while, and when she did respond, she did not answer the question. “Do you hear much about him?”

Sansa considered her response, finally settling on, “Not much, no.” It was not technically a lie. She only ever got news from his brother, and she assumed their correspondence was meant to be kept somewhat secret. 

When Cat was six months old, Sansa received a letter from Storm’s End, inviting her to the wedding of Lord Edric Baratheon and Lady Talla Tarly. She saw an opportunity to get Arya to visit Lord Gendry. He would surely have heard that she had returned, and her flighty sister didn’t seem to realize that she needed to visit him before she broke his heart any further. There had been no sign of a white raven from Oldtown declaring summer, so she might as well ride south for a moon turn or two.

So after dinner that night, over dessert, Sansa casually said, “I received an invitation today for Lord Baratheon’s wedding. He is marrying the Tarly girl, Sam’s sister. Remember Sam, Arya?”

Sansa looked at Arya who was very pale and gripping her fork very tightly. She left the table soon after, complaining of a headache. She left a note in her chambers, raided the kitchens in the early morning, and rode out of the South Gate before dawn.

Sansa sent two ravens, one to Arya’s first mate who was staying with family in White Harbor and was taking care of her ship, explaining that Arya had to ride South to see an old friend and would contact him once she arrived in Storm’s End. The other raven she sent to Edric, read 

“Dear Lord Edric - I offer my sincere congratulations on your upcoming marriage, and send my regrets that I cannot attend the wedding. The Queen in the North belongs in the North. I did mention to my sister, Arya, at dinner last night that Lord Baratheon was to be wed, but I think I forgot to mention which Lord Baratheon. My apologies, but I believe she thinks I meant your brother, for she road South before the sun rose. My dear friend Edric, I cannot remember if I have ever told her of your existence. It was my honest mistake, and I hope you can clear everything up when she arrives without too much strife. If you could please ask her to write to her first mate in White Harbor when she arrives, I told him she would.

Winter is Coming

Sansa Stark, The Queen in the North”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm's End prepares for the arrival of Arya.

Edric received a raven a fortnight before he was to wed from Queen Sansa. They had corresponded enough through the last couple years for him to deduce that it was no mistake at all that she had not mentioned which Lord Baratheon was to marry. But preparing his brother for the arrival of his long lost love was something he had not expected to handle while preparing for his own wedding. He decided it was best not to let him stew in his feelings for longer than strictly necessary, and quietly had a comfortable chamber with a nice view, just down the hall from the Lord’s chambers, prepared for her arrival. Gendry did not seem to notice in all the preparations, considering most of the castle was being prepared for visitors. 

Edric did consult with Davos about it, as he had never met the woman and knew little about her other than the fact that she had slain the Night King and possibly sailed around the world, if the rumors were to be believed. Davos had some words with the guards around the keep, telling them what she looked like and not to get in her way, as she was likely to try to sneak in, especially since she thought she needed to be quick about getting to Gendry. He also recommended they provide Lady Talla with a measure of extra security. He did not think she would just sneak in and murder the girl, but she was unpredictable and Davos did not know her well enough to be sure. They agreed to tell Gendry a few days before they estimated she would arrive. They thought it best to let him mentally prepare for her arrival, but not long enough in advance to allow him time to retreat to the forge. 

As it turns out, he retreated to the forge anyway. Three days before the wedding, Edric gave him the letter Queen Sansa had sent, and Gendry did not say anything for a while after he read it. He set it down and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. Edric sat nervously, waiting for any sign of how he was taking this news. Finally, he heard Gendry’s voice mumble something, but could not make out what. 

“I did not catch that, brother.”

“When did this arrive?” Gendry said, leaning back in his chair, his face worryingly impassive. 

“Almost a fortnight past. She should arrive tomorrow, maybe the following day by Davos and my estimations.”

“Why did you keep this from me? I thought I was supposed to be Lord of this bloody castle?”

“You want to be treated like a lord now?” Edric said, hoping to provoke Gendry into some kind of emotional response so he could gauge how to proceed. It worked. Gendry crumpled the letter in his fist as it slammed down onto his desk, pushing away and walking to the balcony that overlooked Shipbreaker Bay. Edric pocketed the letter before slowly walking up beside Gendry, but staying out of arms reach. His brother was not a violent man, but Edric was weary of his anger, as he had been weary of their father’s anger.

“I have had the Lady’s room prepared for her arrival, and we have warned all of the guards not to engage with her if she attempts to sneak in. She is riding south to stop you from marrying another woman. I know it has been hard for you, since we heard of her return to Westeros. You thought she would visit you. She is doing that now. I am guessing it was always her intention, but you know her sister just had her first child. She was needed at Winterfell. But she is coming here for you, now. She loves you, Gendry.”

Edric thought he saw the shadow of a smile pass over Gendry’s face before he turned and walked back inside. “I’ll be in the forge,” he heard his surly brother grumble as he opened the door and left the room.

Edric tried not to worry too much about Gendry as the rest of the day passed. He had enough going on with wedding preparations, but he could not help but notice the forge was still burning when he turned in for the night. He was surprised to find Gendry at the breakfast table the following morning, looking tired, but clean and freshly shaven. He was wearing a black jerkin that Edric had never seen before. It had three seams over each shoulder with grey fur peaking through. He thought it was an odd garment, but decided not to remark on it. 

“Good morning, brother,” Gendry said as Edric settled at the table next to Talla. She gave him a sweet smile before turning back to her breakfast. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Edric said slowly, unsure of what to make of Gendry’s calm and polite behavior. He was good with the people, but Gendry did not usually bother with pleasantries around the breakfast table. “Did you sleep at all?” 

Gendry smiled into his plate, saying, “Not much, no. I was finishing something up in the forge. You know how much I hate presenting shoddy work.”

“What were you working on?”

“Oh, this and that,” Gendry said, finishing his breakfast and pushing away from the table. Edric did not see him for many hours, and when he asked a guard about it, he was told that the Lord was on the highest wall overlooking the road, and had been all day. Edric smiled and continued about his day.  
************  
Gendry stood, watching the day go by, looking for a lone rider on the road. He thought on all the mistakes he had made when he confessed his love to Arya all those years before. He thought about her riding down here to stop him from marrying someone else. He couldn’t imagine she had somehow developed an interest in being the lady of a great house. He decided years ago, when he asked Bran to legitimize Edric, that he would walk away from this to be with her if he ever had the chance again. And that chance was riding for Storm’s End. He wasn’t going to risk missing it. 

When the sun fell behind storm clouds gathering in the West early in the evening, he retired from his watch, hoping for better luck the next day. He went down to the great hall to find Davos, Edric, Talla, and most of her family all enjoying a quiet supper before the festivities of the next few days. Talla gave him a curious smile, while Edric and Davos grinned at each other, but otherwise no one else acknowledged his arrival with more than a “My Lord.”

He ate a quick dinner, keen to get to bed early so he could start his watch early the following day. He had just finished, and was standing to bid a goodnight when the doors of the hall burst open, and Arya Stark stormed in, quite literally, as it was pouring rain outside and she was drenched from head to toe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry reunite and... stuff. Smutty stuff. 
> 
> I'm not great at summaries if you all haven't noticed.

It had been five long years, and Gendry could immediately see the changes in her. Her hair was longer, in a messy braid down her back. She still dressed in pants and leathers, but they were lighter in color than they used to be. Her skin was tan, and there were small wrinkles around her eyes, which were wide and bright with what he could only assume was anger. He couldn’t stop his lips from pulling into a smile at the sight of her, so alike and so different from the small angry boy he met all those years ago, and as beautiful as he had ever seen her. 

“Lady Stark,” he began, missing the shocked look Edric gave him when he called her lady, after spending years hearing him talk about how much she hated it. She had a sword on one hip and her famous dagger on the other side, was an accomplished warrior, already angry, and he had decided to provoke her further.

Her eyes flashed when he addressed her as such, halting in her steps a few feet from the table, but then her face warped into a smile that was somehow more frightening than the glare. “My Lord,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she bowed comically low.

Talla did not seem to sense the tension in the room, or decided to ignore it in favor of being a good hostess. “Lady Arya, Edric and I are so honored that you would want to attend our wedding. You are most welcome. Your sister wrote ahead to expect you and we have prepared chambers for your comfort. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask. You are a hero to us all.”

Arya had turned her attention to Talla when she spoke and her face began to morph into rage before the name Edric fell from her lips, at which point her face had frozen in confusion. “Who in seven hells is Edric?” She said after a moment, looking to where Talla’s hand was clasped onto the hand of a man next to Gendry, who looked very much like him, though not as large and strong, and somewhat less handsome, she thought. 

“Arya, Edric is my brother. Your brother, the king, had him legitimized at my request a few years ago so that I could name him my heir.”

Edric rose at this and gave a small bow, hesitant to look away from Arya Stark, who was much more frightening than he had expected. “It is an honor.”

Arya was quiet while she put together her mistake. She looked around the room, seeing Sam, who gave her a weak smile, and Gilly, who gave her a very warm smile. She sized up Edric for a full minute before turning her attention back to Gendry.

“You’re not getting married?”

Gendry considered his answer for a short moment, considered the room, before saying, “Not unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Arya flushed at him making such an intimate declaration in front of this small crowd of people. His eyes bored into hers and she finally understood why he was still unmarried after five years, why he had found another Baratheon bastard to make his heir. He had waited for her. He still loved her. Her heart swelled at the thought but she was not willing to have this conversation in front of half a dozen other people. 

“I am tired from my journey, could someone please show me to the chambers you’ve had prepared?” Arya said, her face impassive.

“Of course, Arya,” Gendry said softly, stepped away from the table and towards her. “I was just about to turn in myself, I will show you to your room,” he said, offering his arm.

She did not take his arm, instead moving her hand to grip the dagger that sat at her hip. Almost everyone else in the room seemed concerned at the motion, but Gendry only smiled, turning to lead her out a side door. 

Once they achieved the quiet of the hallway, Arya released her dagger. She knew she was being too aggressive, but she had spent a fortnight of hard riding thinking about how she was going to convince Gendry to not get married, and she was a little worked up to say the least. She focused on the steady sound of their footsteps as he led her through the castle that he had lived in for the last five years. They wound around in a circle, going up staircases, until Gendry stopped in front of a door, turning to face her in the dim light cast by a torch a little ways down the hall.

Arya froze, almost running into his strong chest when he turned. She looked up into his eyes that she knew to be blue, but it was too dark to make them out. And yet she could still feel the intensity of his gaze as he looked at her. He knew she had just ridden south for him, and she knew he had waited all those years for her. They were on even footing. But she didn’t know where to begin.

Gendry’s hand rose, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and settling next to her neck as his eyes continued to bore into hers. “I’ll have some dinner sent up with your things, and a bath drawn. I’m at the end of the hall if you need anything else,” he said quietly, indicating the direction she could find his rooms with a small nod of his head.

Arya wanted to nod, or say something, or do anything to acknowledge what he had just said, but she was frozen. She had thought she could remember how handsome he was, but her memories would never do him justice. She felt a heart beating where his hand touched her skin, but she didn’t know if it was hers or his. She thought idly that it didn’t matter.

Gendry leaned towards her, his face a breath away from hers, whispering, “I missed you,” before gently pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. He pulled away quickly, before Arya could raise her arms to hold him there. He opened the door to her room and then turned and walked back the way he had come. 

Arya walked into the room, still dazed from everything that had transpired in the preceding minutes. She walked aimlessly to the bed, noticing a silk robe set out at the bottom along with some towels and extra blankets. She stripped off her wet clothing, hanging it by the fire, and pulling on the fine robe. She wandered over to the large balcony that was open to the outside. The doors were closed but there was a good roof over the balcony, so Arya threw the doors open and looked out over Shipbreaker Bay. It was dark, but Arya could see the white caps of the waves crashing against large rocks as the storm ravaged the water. She had seen some storms, but there was a reason she hadn’t wanted to sail here. She knew better than to brave this treacherous bit of the sea. 

A few minutes later, there was a quiet knock, before two maids opened the door, bringing in her saddle bags and maps, and a tray with roast chicken, carrots, and warm brown bread, along with a jug of wine. Arya sat at the small table on the balcony enjoying her meal, and when she stood up, taking the wine but leaving the scraps of her dinner, she found a warm bath had been drawn and was waiting for her by the fire. She slipped into the bath, sipping the fine Arbor gold as the hot water relaxed her overworked body. She ought to be tired, as hard as she rode for as long as she did. But her mind was wide awake and alert, thinking about Gendry’s reaction to seeing her. She had rode to Storm’s End expecting to have to convince him to break a legally binding engagement, and then run away with her, maybe never to return. Instead she had encountered a Gendry who had patiently waiting for her, naming another bastard his heir so that he wouldn’t have to marry. And he seemed happy to see her.

Arya emerged from her bath and poured the last of the wine into her glass, pulling the robe back on. She walked over to the bed and noticed a long, thin package wrapped in brown paper sitting next to the extra blankets. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. She felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she recognized the balance, perfect and familiar. She pulled the paper away to reveal a quarter staff very similar to the one she designed and Gendry had made for her to use during the Long Night. It was the same design, separating in the middle if desired, but with the tips made of fine steel instead of dragon glass. She smiled as she twirled it, testing out a few moves she hadn’t needed to use in a long time. She made a decision, the wine making her bold, and set the wonderful staff down, before pulling on a dry pair of trousers, and the large tunic she usually slept in and creeping out into the hallway. 

Arya turned the direction Gendry had pointed towards his rooms, finding the end of the hallway just around the next bend. There was a door, and she pushed it open, slipping into the room, and closing the door behind her silently. The only light was from the fire burning in the grate. She could see Gendry’s form sitting on the side of his bed, silhouetted against the window he was facing, the storm still raging outside. She stayed where she was, leaning against the door.

“M’lord,” Arya said quietly. She saw his shoulders shake with a small laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, and she could hear the smile on his voice.

“Now you know how annoying it is.”

“Aye, now I know,” he said, and she noticed he sounded sad. She was quiet for a minute.

“You waited for me.”

“Aye.”

“That was stupid.”

“I don’t think so. You came back,” he said, and he finally stood up, turning to face her. The looked at each other for a moment in the dim light, neither moving. Arya noticed he was wearing only breeches, his chest stronger than she had ever seen it. It was Gendry who broke the silence. “I still love you.”

Arya’s self control snapped and she was on him in an instant, her lips crashing against his, his large body surrounding her in familiar warmth as his arms wound around her waist. She kissed him hungrily, her tongue pressing into his mouth, as if she would like to crawl inside of him. Her hands fisted in his hair, and she thought somewhere in the back of her mind that she was glad he had grown it out a bit. He turned her so that he could lower her onto the bed, never breaking their kiss as he moved his body over hers, his knee slipping between her legs as he pressed his hips to hers. He finally broke away from her mouth only to turn to her neck, sucking the soft skin at her pulse point.

“Gendry, stop,” Arya said, breathless. He pulled away quickly, looking worried he had gone too far. She pulled his face so she could look into his eyes. She wished she could see the blue, but again, it was too dark. “I love you too. I always have.”

His face softened, and she saw him smile. “I know, Arry.”

She pulled his face back to hers and kissed him slowly, trying to convey how much she had missed him. He kissed her back just as softly, before she felt something wet against her cheekbone. He pulled away again, embarrassed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled his face back to look at her again. “No, I’m sorry. I should have told you before. I broke your heart and left you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked you to come with me.”

“You shouldn’t have had to ask,” he said, kissing her again. She rolled them so she could sit astride his hips, sitting up and pulling her tunic over her head. His fingers traced the deep scars in her stomach. She had told him what had happened during one of the nights they spent together in King’s Landing after the dragon queen’s death. One of the dozens of times he had told her that he loved her and she hadn’t said it back, because she thought she had to leave him behind for some stupid reason.

His hands dropped down to the ties on her breeches, pulling at the laces with deft fingers, before slipping his hand inside her small clothes to stroke at her folds, already damp with arousal. He hadn’t been with a woman in nearly five years, but his fingers still remembered how Arya liked to be touched, stroking the bundle of nerves at the top of her slit, eliciting small moans from Arya. She ground down against his fingers, her center rubbing against his cock through the layers of clothing. 

Gendry couldn’t wait much longer, or he was going to come before he even got his pants off, so he pulled his hand out of her pants and began pulling at the laces of his own breeches. Arya got the hint quickly, pulling her own pants off before sitting back astride him and lowering herself onto his large and very hard manhood as soon as he had released it. He couldn’t stop the loud moan that tore from his lips as he bottomed out inside the only woman he had ever loved. She moved quickly above him, his fingers back at her nub as she chased her release. His favorite sight in the world was Arya riding him, and it wasn’t long before he was grasping her hips, bucking up into her hard as she clenched around him, calling his name out as she rode through her orgasm. He followed quickly after, spilling inside her for what felt like an eternity. She collapsed against his chest, his softening cock still inside her, and they lay quietly listening to the storm.

After a long while, Arya rolled off of him, laying beside him on the bed. Gendry got out of bed and walked over to the table with the water basin, wetting a cloth and cleaning them both, before laying back beside Arya, pulling her back against his chest as they both lay facing the window, watching the storm rage outside. 

“So where are we going?” He asked quietly.

Arya could not quite believe her ears. “What do you mean?”

“Arya, I know you. I’ve always known you. I acted very stupidly last time we saw each other. I should have gone with you. I cannot imagine you have suddenly developed an interest in being the Lady of Storm’s End. I won’t make the same mistakes I made five years ago. So I’m going with you this time. Wherever you want to go, from this day until the end of my days, I will be by your side. So where are we going?”

Arya was quiet for a long time. She had come to Storm’s End to ask him to do exactly what he was volunteering to do without prompting. But she was still not sure he understood the full weight of the commitment she wanted him to make. 

“You know I cannot have children?” She asked, deciding that her largest worry should be the first thing addressed.

It was Gendry’s turn to be quiet. A long time ago, before they reunited in Winterfell, he would occasionally dream about a dark haired, grey eyed girl, jumping into his arms and calling him “papa” but he hadn’t seen her in years. It became less important as the chasm in his chest where Arya had been robbed him of all other desires. “I have wondered about that for a while. Those scars on your stomach… It doesn’t bother me. I just want you,” he said with a quiet confidence that put her at ease. She considered that for a moment before she began explaining her plan. 

“First, north of the wall to visit Jon when summer comes. Then, west again,” she started, eager to tell him of her travels. She spent a long time that night explaining all she had seen, her discovery that the world was round, and the two vast continents to the West. She told him of how she wished to map more of the continents if she could. She wanted to first map the coast of the southern continent. She thought the trip could take ten years, and there was always the chance that they would die in a storm or starve or catch some horrible disease, but she thought it was important and she wanted to do it. And she wanted him to come with her.

“I came here to ask if you would leave all this behind and come with me. I can’t promise anything but love and adventure, but I want you to be by my side. I wish I had asked before.”

“You shouldn’t have had to ask.”

“You keep saying that, but it’s a big ask, and I want you to think about it,” Arya said, worried that he would regret it.

“I’ve been thinking about it for five years. I’m going with you,” Gendry said, quiet and resolved, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

Arya smiled sleepily, content for the first time in years, dozing off as the eastern horizon began to lighten, the storm that raged through the night finally dissipating into wisps of cloud.


	5. Chapter 5

Edric woke early the day before his wedding. Many guests would be arriving that day and they would need to make sure they were all directed to the correct rooms and made comfortable. He broke his fast with Talla. It had been almost a year since they had met, and their attraction had started strong and only grown during that time, while they waited for approval to marry and made the arrangements necessary for a wedding between two such large houses. 

Beyond attraction, they shared a deep trust, confiding much in each other. Talla told him of the heartbreak of losing her father and brother to the dragon queen. She had been betrothed to a much older man, and he had burned during the battle of King’s Landing. Her focus had been on helping Gilly learn the intricacies of running Horn Hill and rebuilding in the Reach with her mother during the years after the wars, much the same as Edric had been helping Gendry do in the Storm Lands. She had lost a lot more than he had, and he was eager to make her happy. He knew that matters of his brother’s heart were not meant to be shared with many people, but he confided in Talla. She was happy to help him plot when they found out Arya was riding for Storm’s End, and she was very excited with the news she brought to the table that morning. 

“Lady Arya’s chambers are empty, and her bed has not been slept in,” Talla said as she sat down next to him at the table, blushing slightly at what she was implying. 

Edric grinned at her, charmed by her blush and pleased that his brother might be on his way to happiness at last. Even if they had simply stayed up all night talking, that meant progress. Edric was still a little weary of Arya, but if she made his miserable brother happy, then he would deal with it. They enjoyed their morning together, directing the chaos around the castle, sharing shy smiles and easy conversation, both of them eager to wed the next day.

When no one had seen Gendry or Lady Stark by midday, Edric decided he needed to disturb… Whatever it was they were doing. They were glad to be reunited, but there was a wedding the next day and he needed Gendry’s help with preparations. He stood outside his brother’s chambers, listening for any movement within. When he heard nothing, he knocked quietly, praying to the seven that it would be his brother and not the frightening woman he was in love with that answered the door. There was no response, so he knocked again, a little harder. He finally heard movement behind the door, and backed up a little. The door opened a crack, Gendry’s face peering through, looking sheepish.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Gendry, but you are needed. We have lords and ladies arriving this afternoon and they expect to see Lord Baratheon.”

“Of course, brother. My apologies for sleeping so late. I —“

“Gendry?” Came the unmistakable voice of Arya Stark from within, sounding like she just woke up. Gendry flushed deeply and Edric simply smirked at him.

“I will send up some food and I will see you in the great hall soon,” Edric said, turning and walking back down the hall.  
*******  
Arya awoke with a cold draft on her back. She had been so warm while she slept, and she was momentarily confused, before she opened her eyes and remembered where she was. She rolled onto her back, stretching out on the large bed, empty but for her.

“Gendry?” She said curiously, sitting up and seeing him standing next to the door. After a few seconds, he closed the door and turned to look at her, his eyes falling from her face to her exposed breasts quickly. She noticed his cock twitch at the sight.

“You need to put some clothes on before I jump you. I have things to do today.”

“Is that so?” She said, pushing up onto her knees so the blankets they had slept under fell away completely, stretching her arms above her head. She saw him bar the door before he crossed the room in two large strides, capturing her lips as he pushed her back on the bed, his fingers between her legs stroking her quickly. She let out a growl when he pulled his fingers away, but it turned into a loud moan when she felt him at her entrance, pushing inside her. He set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into hers as she moaned into his mouth, meeting her pleas for more as best as he could. He felt her arm slide between them, rubbing herself quickly when he felt her begin to clench around his cock. She fell over the edge with a gasp, her tight heat holding onto him as he followed her, groaning into her neck. 

After catching his breath, he gently withdrew himself. He walked over to the washbasin, cleaning himself, before he began to dress. Once he was fully clothed, he went back over to the bed, where Arya was still stretched out and very naked, smiling lazily as she watched him. He pulled one of the blankets up to cover her, before going over to the door and unlatching it. He found a tray with some bread, bacon, and apples sitting on the floor outside the door. He picked it up and brought it over to the bed, setting it next to Arya. He ate quickly, in contrast to Arya, who slowly munched on a piece of bacon as she smiled at him in his fancy lord clothes. He placed a kiss on her forehead before he let himself out of the room. 

Arya ate until she was full before standing up and finding her discarded clothing from the night before. She pulled them on and went back to her own chambers. She gathered her things, her new staff included, and took them back to Gendry’s room. She pulled out a clean set of breeches and a tunic, pulling them on with a lightweight jerkin on top, and fastening her belt with her sword and dagger around her waist. She combed her hair and braided it neatly, before taking her staff and making her way down to the yard.

There was a lot of commotion, with horses and wheelhouses crowding around the entrance, lords and ladies in their finery all making their way into the castle. Arya stuck to the shadows, making her way around until she found the training yard. It was empty but for two men who were sparing. One was giving the other direction as their practice swords clanged together. The less experienced fighter lost his sword after a few more blows, and stood catching his breath as Arya stepped out of the shadows to make her presence known. She introduced herself and learned that it was the master-at-arms, a man named Bryden, training a new guard, Edd. Both men bowed deeply and began expressing gratitude but she waved them off. 

“I’m just Arya, I’m not looking for more praise. I was hoping to train a little, as I haven’t had a chance while riding here. I could give you some pointers if you’d like,” she said, addressing Edd and giving him a warm smile. He seemed a little afraid of her, as most people were when she first met them, but he nodded eagerly. She set down her staff and reached for Needle, but Bryden interrupted her.

“Is that the Catspaw dagger? That’s what you used, isn’t it?” He said eagerly.

She smiled and moved her hand to unsheathe the dagger, handing it to him, before turning back to Edd. She pulled out Needle, as he picked his sword back up.

“We’re not using edged swords, m’lady,” he said, looking at Needle wearily.

“You don’t have practice swords in my size. I promise I won’t hurt you,” she said, smiling at him warmly.

They practiced for a while, and she disarmed him three times. She gave him pointers, about how to think of his sword as part of his arm, as you cannot drop part of your arm. She told him that he gives away too much by turning his body the direction he intends to lunge, that it’s better to just try to stay side-face. The fourth time she beat him, he managed to hold onto his sword, though he left his flank open to attack. 

He sat down for a break and Bryden handed her back the dagger, which she returned to its sheath. She picked her staff back up and walked out into the middle of the yard, twirling it idly before she began to practice in earnest, moving quickly, slashing at the air, pulling the two pieces apart and replacing them seamlessly. 

Edd and Bryden both stood watching her. They were joined after a while by Davos, Lord Edric, and Lord Baratheon. They all watched in varying degrees of stunned silence, save for Davos.

“This takes me back,” he said. “She was fearsome that night. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the wrong side of that fight. Did you make her another staff, Gendry? The one she had that night had dragon glass tips,” he mused, as if he were discussing the weather and not one of the most deadly battles in the history of Westeros.

“Aye. I knew she lost that one in the battle. And dragon glass is not very useful as a weapon unless it is used against the dead. I thought steel would be more practical this time.”

“It’s a fine weapon, my lord,” Bryden said.

“A fine weapon for a fine warrior,” Gendry said, smiling fondly. Davos and Edric shared a knowing smile.

Arya finally stopped moving and noticed she had a small audience. She walked over slowly, smiling at Gendry. She stopped right in front of him and stood on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you. It’s perfect,” she said, still smiling only at him, giving no indication that she knew there were other people around. 

“Glad it pleases you, m’lady,” he said, bowing slightly.

She punched him hard on the shoulder, before turning back to Bryden and Edd, who were both a little shocked that she had hit their lord. “Thank you for allowing me to join you,” she said, smiling at them. She turned back to Gendry. “I know you’re busy but could you show me to the rookery? I need to send a raven to Sansa.”

Gendry chuckled, offering her his arm, and Edric spoke up quickly. “You need to send a raven to White Harbor as well. Your sister told your first mate that you would write to him when you arrived in Storm’s End.”

Arya looked curiously at Edric. “Do you still have the scroll she sent?”

Edric looked a little afraid as he nodded, pulling a small, rather ratty piece of parchment out of a pocket and handing it to her. She read it quickly, her face doing nothing to hide the anger she felt at Sansa’s manipulation. She handed it back to Edric without a word. She looked pointedly at Gendry, who took her hand and led her out of the training yard.


End file.
